Dead Space: Jericho II
by X-WolfHunter
Summary: The previously highly-anticipate and probably currently forgotten-about sequel to my Dead Space: Trio and Captain Crazy-Nonsense's Dead Space: USG Colorado
1. A Forward

Hello, everybody.

I'm really irritated right now with fanfiction, which actually deleted my original version of this text – a half an hour of writing it – because of it's new "efficiency" feature which opens links to fanfiction on another tab if it already is on fanfiction (WHY CAN'T YOU PEOPLE SEE THAT THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA) and just leaves whatever page the other tab _was_ on, even if there's freaking text in the input box GAAAAAAAAAAAH and it just erases everything without a second thought. You know what? I don't even think there was a FIRST thought with this feature. It's just dumb. DUMB!

Now that the nonsensical rant is out of the way, I'm going to have to freaking type out everything all over again (okay, _now_ the rant's out of the way), but it's going to be considerably shorter than it was before since now I'm all irritated and stuff.

*Deep breath*

Okay. Now that I'm calm, to the real deal! Gosh dang, I'm still not calm.

This is an introductory text which was originally to serve two purposes: One, to go into – with great, exquisitely and carefully written detail – my plans for this series, which it actually did until some unnamed person decided to write a few lines of the stupidest code in existence, and then also to provide credit where credit is due, as some of the stuff in this series is not mine.

Now, in case some of you are stumbling upon this from a purely blank slate, and know nothing of the backstory, this story was basically an idea of mine to combine both my and Captain Crazy-Nonsense's Dead Space fanfictions in the form of a collaboration. Well, about six months ago, our negotiations fell through, and we parted bitterly, keeping our guns trained on each other's hearts as we backed out of the dank, dark, deep, desolate room we were using somewhere in an abandoned subway in New York.

So, recently, I wanted to initiate negotiations again, so, carving messages on some bullets, I climbed to the roof of a tall building adjacent to the hotel in India where Crazy-Nonsense was then hiding and aimed my sniper rifle's scope carefully. After pulling the trigger until all my messages had exited the barrel, Crazy-Nonsense (after some emergency medical attention – swear I wasn't aiming for your lungs, buddy) removed the bullets and deciphered my code.

Some days later, he infiltrated my base in the northernmost parts of Russia and shot me in the knee with an arrow that had a sheet of parchment wrapped around it from a ventilation shaft. I quickly read the message, which, written in blood, explained to me that he had left the game years ago in favor of a busty blonde milkmaid he'd found whilst trekking through the hills of the Netherlands during his escape from the Chinese Triads, and that he'd retired from the Dead Space fanfiction genre for good. (Though, be on the lookout for some new stories of his – _wink_) So I sealed off my fortress and tried to catch him, to torture him until he agreed to fanfiction DSJII with me, but it turned out he'd a man on the inside who smuggled him out. Needless to say, the inside man met with a very painful demise involving gorillas, giant mosquitoes, and a crocodile or two.

My most recent information has it that Crazy-Nonsense has since escaped to the mountains of Tibet somewhere with his busty milkmaid and their seventeen children (I think it's something like three quintuplets and twins, but you'd have to check. It's been a while) and picked up the quiet life of the monk. He's picked up a quill and parchment paper, and sits, most likely as I type, in quiet meditation upon that which he intends to write.

Well, that was quite the tangent-run, methinks. Moving on.

So, firstly, I will tell you what requisite materials are necessary to have been read before this story:

Dead Space: Trio – written by me, tells the original story of Terrance, Gunner, and Titan as they escape the necromorph-infested Sprawl.

Dead Space: Bridge – an extremely short "bridge" story that kind of doesn't really need to be read at all, but you can read it if you really want to.

Dead Space: USG _Colorado_ – written by Captain Crazy-Nonsense, the original story of Jericho II and the USG _Colorado_ and Giovanni Brown etc.

Once those are read, you are free to read this story, but until then . . . no siree bob.

Next on my agenda is informing you of my plans for this series. I intend for it to be very lengthy in completion and compilation, and so it will be many a month before it is done. Until then, I expect, as can you, to put forth about a chapter a week. It may fluctuate due to the varying lengths of the chapters, but that's what I want my schedule to mostly look like. No promises.

On how it's actually going to be, I plan to alternate chapters following the stories of the protagonists and the antagonists. There will be many stories that I will be following (hint – there's going to be multiple antagonist groups, and quite probably the Terrance-Gunner-Titan trio will not be together entirely throughout the story), and I expect it to be a nice convoluted mess for those who wish to follow the story as I write it, but if you pick it up when it's all finished, it'll probably be better, so you don't have to try and remember how the last bit went.

Anyway, there may or may not slightly but quite definitely be some possible flashbacks into the pasts of the trio's lives before and after Titan Station. Just a fair notice.

Regarding the whole shifting-perspectives thing of DS: Trio, there will be none of that here. Less complicated and more polished that way. However, every individual/party will have its own way of recording events; as per DS: USG _Colorado_, Giovanni and his buds will record their journey through audio log (or, when Brown is alone, 3rd person insane ranting style). Terrance will solely do post-event recaps (though the first bit of chapter one will be a captain's log). Etc.

Moving on, I must give credit where credit is due. Anything that can be found in DS: USG _Colorado _is not mine, but Crazy-Nonsense's instead. Things such as Giovanni Brown, the USG _Colorado_ itself, even Jericho II all spawned from the nebulaic chaos we call CN's brain. However, everything else came from the turbulent mess we call _my_ brain.

Now that we got all of that out of the way, I thank you for reading whatever it actually was that preceded this sentence and move to the final item on my agenda: _The Disclaimer_. This disclaimer shall stand for the entirety of this series, so that I don't have to ceaselessly repeat it:

**I do not own Dead Space, nor anything about it except that which I have created with my own mind, nor anything from Dead Space: USG _Colorado._**

The prologue is out (BAM), and look forward to chapter one, which is in the process of creation now!

As always,

-Wolf


	2. Prologue

"Sergeant Williams." Terrance nodded at a man standing in front of a locked door. The man nodded back and waved his hand through the yellow holo-pad. It flashed blue briefly, and then the door hissed open.

"Terrance. Good to see you," said a man dressed in a tuxedo on the far end of a long synthetic mahogany table. "Have a seat." He indicated a chair to his left. Terrance, dressed in the official new uniform of the AUD - Anti-Marker Department - took a seat next to the CEO of the United Miners' Association, Dr. Rehm Grawford.

"You called me here?" Terrance asked tentatively.

"I did. The Deep Space Mining Department has informed me of some rather relevant intel that they picked up from a transmission bound for EarthGov. They picked up several broadcasts, but here are the two relevant ones." Dr. Grawford pushed two sheets of paper across the table. Terrance read the first one:

_This is the USG _Colorado_ reporting to EarthGov. Please forward this message to Unitology as well. We have discovered a Marker, of the Unitologist religion, on the deserted planet Jericho II and we are requesting that an expert be sent to our ship to analyze the artifact. Said artifact is white, very large, and emits strange, complicated frequencies we cannot understand. Please note our coordinates and trajectories as listed below:_

The message went on to list, in no discernable letters - in computer jargon and seemingly random scribbles - the USG _Colorado_'s complete flight patterns and all necessary information to locate the ship.

_Well, THAT's convenient,_ Terrance thought as he flicked to the other sheet. This one was less formal and more incoherent; it looked as though someone had typed it frantically and fearfully, and typos riddled the message.

_This is hte USG _Colorado_ sendign a distress call to all ships withing range for immediate help pleadse we are being overrun by molnsters from the planeth Jericho II who are trtiyng to literally eat us. Plas eplease SOS ds 4yt0jgmph[ jkn,  
_

"Looks like they got overrun. Now what?" Terrance asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Now you get your ass down to Jericho II and deal with the Marker! Isn't that what you wanted to do? It shouldn't be too difficult, now should it? Just blow the thing up! Your ships have nukes, so use them!" Dr. Grawford replied.

"Yes sir. I'll get my ship and head out ASAP." Terrance stood up to go.

"Not just your ship, Terrance. _All _of your ships."


	3. Chapter 1 - Terrance

**Captain's Log**

This is Captain and Commander Terrance Michaels. I am recording that we have made preparations and run through the bios and that all three of our ships are ready to shock out.

In our fleet is the UMA _Forrest_ and the UMA _Cavalry_, plus my flagship. All three are Destroyer-class vessels.

Our immediate mission is to shock out to where the USG _Colorado_ sent its transmissions, and then use its flight patterns and navigational information to set an interception course. Upon viewing the planet cracker, we will open fire until the ship has been destroyed, starting with a single nuclear warhead and moving on to smaller weaponry if said warhead fails to destroy the ship somehow.

Once the ship is destroyed, we will then decide how to proceed.

*Terminate log.*

* * *

We shocked out about ten minutes after that log.

Gunner and Titan were with me in the ship's bridge, as well as all other personnel responsible for proper navigation, ship monitoring, and other necessary functions. We all were wearing space-ship regulated clothing and standard basic RIGs – you know, just the mechanical stuff, no suits or anything; health indicator, wrist-mounted holographic projectors, etc. – that would, in the event of some form of catastrophic event, pressure-seal the wearer of the clothing so that we wouldn't die in the event of sudden ejection into space, but a suit store resided in the bridge with us, so in very little time we could be inside our RIGs in no time.

As we came into normal space once more, I looked out at the surrounding area. The sun was large – at least twice the size of the earth's sun – and it radiated brightly. As our navigators began to set a course that would intercept the USG _Colorado_ and the planet Jericho II, I stared out at the unfamiliar stars – a paradoxically familiar sensation – and let my thoughts turn to wonder at the seemingly infinite reaches of stars.

"Captain Michaels!" someone said.

"Yes?"

"Sir, our arrival time is in exactly fourteen hours and seven minutes. I've sent the information to your RIG. Our warheads will be prepped in that time as well. Is there anything else we must do in way of preparing for the strike?"

"No." I was already sick of the formal way people addressed me, and I'd only been captain of this ship a matter of hours. "That will be all. Dismissed."

I walked over to where Gunner and Titan were seated, playing some form of holographic strategy game, and informed them of the time of arrival. "If you need to eat, sleep, whatever, go ahead and do it now."

"Yeah, yeah. Gonna finish this game first."

"Whatever." I walked out of the bridge and to the nearest transporter. I waved my hand through the holographic circle to indicate that I wanted to use it, and then waited for the doors to open. After they did, I used my authorization chip to have it go to my quarters. The doors hissed closed and a gentle movement could be felt momentarily before the doors opened once more and I found myself in my quarters. After stripping down and taking a quick shower, I wolfed down a meal and headed to my bedroom, eager to squeeze in some sleep before we neared the USG _Colorado_ and prepared to fire.

When I awoke, I saw that someone had sent me a message to my RIG. Sliding on my holographic bracelets, I opened the message and read it. It was an auto message notifying me that only two hours remained until we reached our destination, and it had been sent a half an hour ago. I had slept for twelve hours? I guess it made sense, seeing as I hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep total for the past few days to prepare mentally for the journey, but I still was kind of shocked.

Shrugging it off, I went back to the transporter and called it. Telling it I wanted to go to the bridge – and presenting it proper clearance as well – I sat tight for the quick journey to it. When I got there, I saw all hands on deck working with calculations and the normal preparations; all hustle and bustle. A few people nodded and said "Captain." as they walked by, but mostly people focused on their work. I saw Gunner and Titan heatedly talking to a few officers, and I went to join them.

"Sir," said one of the officers. I nodded at him.

"Captain, we've just received transmissions from our scouting drone that we sent out a while back. The images are a mix of ones that it took of the colony on Jericho II, and some that we remotely hacked from the security systems of the USG _Colorado,_" the other officer said hurriedly. "Look what we found:" The officer tapped a few buttons on the holographic pad in front of him and a large screen appeared before us. On it were a myriad of images and videos. The officer's pad was a miniaturized version of the screen now, and he selected a few images, one after another. The first he showed me were all carnage from the USG _Colorado_, some live, some taken recently, some logs, all bloody and filled with necromorphic death. Some showed survivors, fighting their way through the necromorphs, doing their best, but ultimately being ripped apart in the end. It was all tragic, and I looked away soon.

"Move on. What of the colony?"

"Well, here are some of the images we got from the ship's security footage of the colony." The images and videos he showed me were largely the same, only this time on the surface of the desert planet. There was a young-ish man of maybe twenty or so, wearing no RIG suit but instead a standard engineering uniform, holding a divet, pumping rounds into a necromorph who ate them as quickly as the man could fire them. Soon, seeing it as futile, he reached behind him and grabbed a plasma saw, turning it on and cutting the thing's arms and legs off. He stomped on its chest for good measure, and then ran off, leaving the divet behind. There was a young woman, curled up in a fetal position in a corner, sealed in a room by a metal grate that covered the rather large doorway. Necromorphs could be seen clawing at the grate, trying to rip it off its fastenings and get at the woman. It was obvious that the grate wouldn't hold much longer, and the woman knew this. She wore a unitologist uniform, of low rank, possibly of a student, but right then she didn't seem too sympathetic for the unitologist cause. As I watched the live stream, an engineering hatch in the back hissed open and the young engineer I had just seen crawled out, picked the woman up, shoved her in, hopped back in himself, and closed the hatch. Not a minute after they left, the grate burst and the necromorphs howled in their eternal rage, smashing at the hatch and clawing at the walls as their prey escaped.

"What of the Marker?" I asked urgently. Did the drone get any images of that?"

"Indeed." The officer pulled up three images and layed them out on the screen. They all were of the White Marker, a humungous artifact, fully intact and obviously functional, each from a different angle. The Marker was half-buried in sand. It was clear that it had been dug up quite recently, as the rest of it was still in a hole, but most likely a sandstorm had swept across and reburied the thing. The colony, too, half a mile from the Marker, bore the marks of a recent sandstorm, with some buildings completely buried.

"Captain! The _Colorado_'s in sight! What should we do?" asked one of the men on the computers.

"Scan it. Tell me what's on there!" I replied.

"Yessir . . . let's see . . . the only living humans are in the bridge . . . about fifty or so . . . what the -" he cut off.

"What?"

"Well, sire, one of them hopped in an escape pod and jettisoned them all! He just left everyone else to die! Oh – they're on the move, sir. Looks like they're making for the bridge. They might escape, sir!"

"Then fire, damn you! Fire the missile! Now!" I yelled.

"Yessir!" The man hit a few buttons and with a tremendous _WHOOSH_ a gigantic nuclear missile could be seen below the bridge igniting and making on its merry way, trembling the whole ship with its passing. I looked around at the other two ships in my fleet and gave the order to ready secondary weapons.

"When'll this thing hit?" I asked nobody in particular, my whole attention focused on the deadly rocket soaring through space.

"Less than five minutes, sir," someone replied.

"Good. Let's hope nobody else makes it off the ship."

As the minutes, longer than years, ticked by, and the nuke grew smaller and smaller, I watched as the planet and the _Colorado _grew bigger and bigger. Suddenly, a tremendous flash of light could be seen. The glass of the bridge automatically dimmed to protect our eyes as the nuke detonated. Seconds later our ship trembled again as the shockwave from the nuke blew past us. The _Colorado _was a flaming wreck now, pieces of it flying every which way, but still miles and miles away from us. I watched as the terrible but breathtaking spectacle took place. The bulk of the _Colorado_ now began to descend slowly toward the planet, while some smaller chunks were blasted into orbit.

"Map me a crash pattern on that ship." I whispered. Nobody did anything again, so I repeated it, only louder. This time a muffled "sir" could be heard as somebody's attention refocused to his holographic computer and he began punching buttons. Moments later, it was done.

"Point of impact, approximately four hundred and seventy-three miles east of the Marker site. Time, five hours. Damage to Marker site: None. Debris field: Minimal, little to no debris will fall on the Marker site or colony. No debris substantial enough to pierce our hulls. It's safe to proceed."

"Good. Proceed." I watched as the destruction took place, beautiful in a terrible way. The flaming hunk of what used to be a planetcracker soared almost gracefully down to the gigantic desert planet below. I felt the slight tremor as our ships' engines fired up again and we began to move toward Jericho II once more. "When we get close enough, put us in orbit. I don't want to waste fuel getting closer like the _Colorado_ did. Got it?"

"Yessir."

"Good. When will we be there?"

"Twenty minutes or so, sir."

"Good. Do another scan of the area, tell me what you see."

"Yessir. Uh . . . looks like . . . about a quarter of the people escaped on board a shuttle, but it's too small to take out from here with our ship's weaponry systems."

"Damn," I cursed.

"What's our next move?" asked Titan, eyeing the planet. "Gonna just nuke the Marker like we did the Colorado and be done with it?"

I stared at the images of the half-buried Marker and a sudden thought occurred to me. "Hey – somebody tell me. What are the chances that the sand will render our nuke useless? Will it still destroy the Marker, or will the sand absorb it?"

"Depends on what the Marker is made out of. According to stolen information, the original Black Marker was made out of some substance we don't know of yet, but the Red Marker was built of an iron compound and the Gold Marker was grown using minerals, and so was made of something kind of like rock, but more . . . metallic. We don't know yet what the White Marker is made of, so I honestly have no idea."

"Well, then. Looks like we're going to have to excavate it first. Any idea of how we can do that?" I asked the room in general.

"Well, sir . . ." a voice piped up.

"Yes?"

"Well . . . the USG _Colorado_ was a mining vessel . . ."

I eyed the burning hunk of metal as it fell to the surface of the planet. "Hmm. So it was. Well . . . shit. Do we have any mining equipment aboard?"

"No, sir. These ships were outfitted purely for battle, nothing else. Sorry, sir."

"Damn it. Scan the colony. There's got to be something we can use down there."

"Scanning . . . yes, sir. I found a couple deployable orbital mining shuttles that can be used to quickly excavate the Marker. They're down there. Only two. One should be enough. But both would be better."

"Can we remotely activate them?" I asked. Somehow, I knew the answer before the guy said it.

"No, sir. It's manually operated only; safety issues, you see."

"Well, then. Gunner? Titan? Looks like we're going down."

* * *

**Forgive me if I do not act as . . . excitedly with my notes as I did with Dead Space: Trio. I intend for this series to be a lot more serious and thought-out.**

**That being said, I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you're looking forward to next week's. Spoiler (not really): It's Giovanni's turn to spin a tale. By the way, he's gone completely insane, in case you won't be able to tell. Kinda like . . . a demented, evil version of Stross.  
**

**Anyway, I'll see you next week.  
**

**Read, Share, Review, Repeat. Back to the old mantra, I am! :)  
**


	4. Chapter 2 - Giovanni Brown

**Hello, all, and welcome to the second installment in this series! This one is short, but necessarily so (it would just be fluff and useless junk if it were longer), and it's kinda like Giovanni's prologue or something like that.**

**So, I hope you enjoy it! Read on! :)  
**

* * *

Giovanni Brown stared out of the pod's windows and back at the USG _Colorado_. He saw the nuke, a mere half-mile away from the ship, and reflected on how his brother had shoved him into the escape pod and launched them all.

"Why'd you do it, Fred?" Giovanni asked his brother hoarsely, turning to one of the seats in the pod where Fredrick Brown was sitting, strapped in safely like the good boy he was.

"Because, Giovanni, we would have died if I hadn't. I need you. _We_ need you," Fred replied.

"But, the other pods! Why'd you have to launch them, too? The others . . . they could have escaped . . ."

"We had to be sure, Giovanni. We couldn't have those other ships firing on us, now, could we?" Fred's eyes had begun to glow white, but this didn't seem to bother Giovanni all that much, if he even noticed.

"I suppose, but . . . at that range? I don't think they could have hit -" Giovanni cut off as the nuke detonated. His eyes snapped to the _Colorado_ in horror as it exploded. The pod's windows auto-dimmed so its occupants wouldn't become blind in situations like these, but they were still too close to the explosion and the shock wave hadn't dispersed enough to be harmless to the pod. When it hit, the pod rocked and shook like it had been struck directly by a missile, and it began to spin horrendously fast. Giovanni was flung to the wall and began to throw up as the spinning got to him; Fred had vanished, and the pod was crumpling and breaking, pieces of it flying around on the inside and out. The one holographic monitor that remained was flashing red, flickering in and out, and a robotic, static-y voice began uselessly informing the pod's occupants of the sustained damage to the hull and interior of the pod.

"Emergency crash-landing procedure activated . . . time of impact esti- _CHCKCHHHHCK _five min- _CKKKKCHKCHK_," the computer voice said. The red screen flickered, glitched a few times, and then went dark as all electronics died. The pod was flooded with darkness as the windows cracked. A bit or two of glass flew out into space, and air began spilling out of the pod. Luckily, a few bits of floating debris soared towards the holes like rubber ducks to a drain, and temporarily sealed them off, but the cracks spiderwebbed and began to grow larger.

Moments later, Giovanni blacked out.

When he awoke, his vision was completely white and he couldn't see anything; he also had an annoying ringing in his ears. After a few minutes, the white had mostly faded as well as the ringing, and he could navigate. He looked around and saw only darkness, though not pitch-black darkness – just very shadowy and dim – and a spot of bright light not too far off. He saw bits of metal around him, and that he was resting on a metal wall. Shards of glass were around him, some small stuck in his flesh, and some sand could be seen on the floor. He ached all over. Giovanni looked up and saw crumpled metal above him, with some sand trickling down between cracks and piling up next to him. There was a sudden loud groaning noise, and the metal shifted, vibrating heavily. The sand began to fall at a terrifying rate. As the sand began to build up around Giovanni, he saw that he had but minutes until it would fill up completely, suffocating him in the process and burying him alive. Frantically, he began to search around in his immediate vicinity for an exit. Seeing one, he crawled to it through the building sand and managed to squeeze through a small hole out of the small area he had been in. He was now in a maze of fallen rubble and metallic debris, all roofed by a large panel of metal that was too heavy for him to move by himself. He began to try and maneuver his way through the sandy debris-filled area, army-crawling as the "roof" was too low for anything else, cutting himself at times on extending bits of metal that could not be avoided. Soon he saw that his only way out – a blindingly bright point of light just ahead of him – was far too small for him to get through. Cursing, he began to dig sand from under the small hole. He soon saw, to his terror, that the sand was concealing another metal panel, and the two were very close together. It looked like he might be able to fit, but he was hesitant to try; what if he got stuck, and a few of those _things_ from the _Colorado_ got to him? But he soon saw that if he stayed inside the debris field he would starve to death. So he rolled onto his back, gripped the top of the small hole, and pulled. For ten minutes he wriggled about a quarter of the way out, but suddenly the grinding noise could be heard once more and the metal shifted again. He felt pure terror grip him as the metal sheets began to squeeze closer together, knowing that they were so big that they wouldn't even find resistance trying to crush him, but then suddenly they lurched and shifted so that the side on his right widened. He felt glee take hold of him now, but the movement finished by squeezing the metal on his left side, pinching his left arm in a death grip.

"Damn it!" screamed Giovanni in pain and fear. He wriggled out a bit more, but soon his progress was halted by his pinched left arm. Giovanni pulled on the arm, hard, but it still would not come free. Giovanni looked around, to his left and right, and saw, to his utter amazement, lying there on the sand to his right, a plasma saw. He reached out as far as he could with his free arm, and just managed to grip its handle. Pulling it carefully closer to him until he could get a good grip on it, Giovanni looked back down at his left arm.

"You've served me well, arm," said Giovanni. Suddenly, he began laughing hysterically as he turned the plasma saw on and watched its plasma blades whirring round and round faster and faster until they were a solid streak of blue light, like a chainsaw of plasma. He raised his right arm, his laughter reaching a new peak, and began to swing down, when suddenly a hand caught his forearm. Giovanni halted mid-laugh, and looked up to see Frank, looking none the worse for the crash, with a look of total disapproval in his eyes, which seemed to flash white briefly.

"Frank! Praise Altman, am I glad to see you!" Giovanni said with relief obvious in his voice.

"You shouldn't be," said Frank sadly. "This is going to hurt terribly, but there's a medical bay nearby, so it shouldn't kill you."

And with that, Frank grabbed Giovanni by the armpits and explosively pulled outward. Giovanni screamed as he felt his arm being mangled by its removal from the pinched position. Pain erupted such as he'd never felt in his life in his arm, burning from fingertip to shoulder, and Giovanni nearly passed out there and then. Frank continued to drag him across the sand quickly as Giovanni looked down at his arm. All he saw was a bone-deep cut and blood everywhere. Giovanni passed out.

When he awoke, he was strapped to a medical table. His left arm was completely stasised, and the telltale glow of green could be seen; the glow of a medical pack hard at work. He saw some machinery stitching up the cut, and a small kinesis module directing the liquid around the wound to work in synch with the machine. Giovanni knew he was heavily drugged up with pain meds, and he looked to his left to see his brother Frank sitting in a waiting chair smoking his cigar blissfully.

"This place is shit, brother," was the first thing Frank said.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"This is what I mean." Frank stood up and opened the door to the medical room. There, standing on the other side of the door, was one of those _things_. It stared at Giovanni with dead eyes, with those weird spike-arms sticking from its collarbones, but what caused Giovanni to really scream was the fact that it had Frank's face. Frank laughed gleefully and launched forward, the plasma saw whirring to life in his hands. Moments later, a torso, four limbs, and a head lay on the ground. Frank laughed again, closed and locked the door, and kicked the head once. Everything turned white all of a sudden; symbols sprayed across the room, unintelligible to Giovanni, whirling around and forming incomprehensible words before fading to nothingness only to be replaced by other symbols moments later. The white light grew and grew until it was all-encompassing.

When it vanished, Giovanni was lying on the ground in a pool of blood, a plasma saw near his right hand and chunks of dead necromorph all around him. He stood up screaming, and saw the head of the thing nearby. Terrified, he rotated it and, bracing himself, looked into its face. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, he saw that it was not the head of his brother, but that of some unnamed poor soul.

Giovanni scanned the medical room and saw only the plasma saw, lying still on the floor, and the medical supplies in with him. The door was locked. Other than that, the room was empty except for the bed he'd been strapped to when his brother had been there.

"Frank? Frank, are you here?" Giovanni shouted. There was no response. He picked up the plasma saw and gripped it tightly, taking a deep breath before unlocking and opening the door. He stepped out of the room and into the hallway. Somehow, that step was momentous, and he would remember it for the rest of his life.

* * *

**Good? Bad? Anything? Reviews would be helpful! Thanks in advance, guys! The only way I know that I should continue a series is if people review it and let me know that want me to!**

**Read, Share, Review, Repeat. See you all next time!  
**


	5. Chapter 3 - Titan and Gunner

**Longest chapter yet. Hope you know what you're getting into. :D**

**This one is from Titan's perspective, at first. Then it switches to Gunner's. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Terrance put me in charge of assembling the crew, so I did quickly. I knew speed was necessary; a shuttle had escaped the _Colorado_, and one of the jettisoned escape pods had contained a single person. They had all reached the surface. Beyond that – whether they had survived, whether more people were on the surface already, whether the captain had remained on the _Colorado_ – we had no idea. There could be resistance, defending the Marker at all costs, not knowing what it actually does to dead people. So I assembled the baddest men we had aboard; those who had fought in many battles, hardened with years of experience, former spec ops agents, anybody we had who wouldn't be shaken by the necromorphs below.

"Alright, men. Forget anything you think you know about combat when we hit the surface. Those things down below aren't living. They aren't human. Fact is, we don't know what the hell they are. But I do know this from experience: They will not die if you shoot them in the heart. They will not die if you shoot them in the head. They will not die if you shoot them in the gut. The only way to kill them is to remove their limbs. To put them through such trauma that even the dead are reminded that they don't belong in this world. This being said, you'd all better get acquainted really quickly to some different weapons than you're used to. As dismemberment is the game, regular bullets just won't do. We need severing tools. Mining tools. So let me introduce you to your new arsenal." I stepped to the side and indicated several tools on the table behind me. "First up is the plasma cutter." I lifted the indicated weapon, sliding a plasma chip into it and locking it in. "This baby is fully upgraded with everything we can give it; fire rate, reload speed, capacity, intensity – everything we can throw at it, it's got it." I quickly took aim at one of the targets I had set up earlier for demonstration and fired. "As you can see, the plasma bolt cut clean through the target. This is one of the most versatile, useful, and god damn deadly tools you will have on that surface. This baby is all you need to survive down there. As long as you have this and some ammo, you're good to go." I set the cutter down and moved on to the line gun, then the ripper, and on through all of the standard mining tools. I finished with the plasma saw. "Useful for many things. First off, just cutting through almost anything you want to cut through. Secondly, it can be used to weld things that need to be welded. And, in a pinch, you can use it as a backup melee weapon – a surprisingly effective one at that." Finished, I set the saw down and looked at the assembled group. "Questions?" There were none.

The shuttle left at midnight planet time. It was to have no running lights and to be as stealthy as possible. It was to land, drop us and our equipment off, and then leave without touching the ground.

"Ten minutes until drop," the pilot said over the intercom. We were all going over our weapons like soldiers do before battle to calm our nerves. The men knew some serious shit was going on down there, and Terrance, Gunner and I knew exactly what was in store.

Our plan was to set up a perimeter as soon as we landed, and then secure it. Then we move on to our chosen BOO, a small, tough building with an unnamed purpose. It's very strong, can withstand high-level weapons fire, and can be easily fortified too. It would be perfect. It even has a reactor on the roof to power it until we leave. As soon as we get done with that, we'll send out a group to set up a larger surveillance perimeter with scanners, cameras, radar, and all the other stuff we need to get eyes around us. Then, we'll start making moves toward getting those mining ships under our control and launching them to free up the Marker so we can nuke it.

"Five minutes until drop," said the pilot. We waited silently until, finally, the light turned green and the doors opened. We jumped out, one after another, save me and another marine who pitched out our equipment containers. We were a mile above the ground at this point, and our RIGs all had fall-breakers strapped to them. As we and our equipment fell, we all were on the same com channel, coordinating our movements so that we wouldn't miss our relatively small target. Then the time came, and we all activated our fall-breakers – small packs strapped to our backs that blasted out the same energy used for kinesis modules; controlled gravity alteration stuff. It slowed us down, but, being combat-regulated, didn't do too much in the way of a comfortable landing. Inexperienced users often still broke legs upon landing. The equipment boxes had similar devices attached, only more powerful, so that nothing got rattled up inside. When we all hit the ground, I sent out the order to activate our night vision stuff. Combination of infrared and light amplification, but very advanced; if a bright light appeared, it would filter it in only that spot so that vision wouldn't be impaired in the slightest. Then I gave the order to start setting up the perimeter. The men moved like pros, which they were, working efficiently and quickly. The job was done in a matter of minutes; about fifteen or so. The deployable barricades had been set up, and about five of our twenty men were now stationed on watch in good defensible positions.

"Good," I said over the comlink. "Nice work, men. In we go."

First up was Terrance, being the experienced hacker of the group. He ran straight up to the building we had chosen to fortify and pulled up his holographic computer. In about a minute, the front door ground open slowly.

"Damn," he said. "Power is extremely low. Barely had enough juice to open the door. The reactor's been off for weeks."

"What do we do about it?" I asked. Terrance pulled up his computer again. A holographic rendition of the reactor showed up, flashing red in a few points to indicate damage.

"The thing's broken. Gunner'll have to fix it," Terrance replied.

"On it. Somebody scan the building. I want full blueprints and technological details, now," said Gunner, seeming to enjoy being in charge. Two men grabbed a piece of equipment from one of the nearby storage containers and hefted it into the building. They activated it; a pulse of blue light emanated from it. One of the computers, the main terminal for the building, flickered on briefly and seemed to be sending information to the equipment the two men were holding.

"Got it, sir. Sending to your RIG now," said one of the men.

"Got it. Let's see . . . There! Engineering hatch. Off I go. See you in a little bit," said Gunner, vanishing into the darkness of the building.

"Alright, everyone. Get inside and bring the equipment with you. Then set up a command center and a quarters. Basic stuff only – sleeping and eating for now. Move move!" I turned to the men on watch. "Anything?"

"No, sir. Nothing but sand and wind," one of the five replied.

"Good. Hopefully it stays that way." Taking one last look around me, I walked inside to join the others.

* * *

Hello, there. My name is Gunner. I've decided to keep an audio log of this outbreak. Terrance kept logs from Titan Station – actually let me read them, a bit surprised about that – and it kinda inspired me to do it, too. So I'm starting here.

I should clarify that my name isn't actually Gunner. It's just my codename. My real name is – oh, found it! The engineering hatch! Looks dead. Damn it. Hang on, lemme just open the control panel with my plasma saw . . . *_Rrrrrrrrrt_*

There. Now, let's see . . . yep, no power. None. Looks like the computer system diverted power from it to keep the . . . defense system up and running as long as possible. Defense system? What kind of building is this? And who programmed it to shut down _engineering hatches_ before weapons systems? Oh . . . hang on . . . not weapons systems. It looks like . . . no . . . wait, gotta get in there more. Need to use more power from my RIG to activate bits of it . . . there. An electrical field generator? Interesting. Looks like it wrapped around the whole entire building, windows and all. Seems effective, in theory. Wonder who belonged to this building.

Anyway, enough snooping. Let me just reroute what power's left in the system to the engineering hatches and pathways . . . there, that should do it. Ah, yes, the holographic access switch is back. Lemme just . . . there, it's open. _Huph_ . . . and, there, inside. Yep, lights are flickering on. Kinda dim, though, wonder how long they'll last. Whatever. Don't need my night vision anymore.

Ah, what's this? Another access hatch, to my left. Where's that come out? I'll check the blueprints . . . strange, it's not in them. The system doesn't have much power left, so I'm not going to waste what's there on opening and closing hatches for no reason, but . . . on my way back, why not?

Turning the corner, aaaaand . . . here's the ladder! Climbing up . . . ceiling hatch opened . . . and, I'm on the roof! Just gonna close the hatch, and – _aaaaaarrrrrghh! Ooof – agh! Huph . . . mmmph!_ *_Ckkkk ckkkkkkkkkk ckk_*

*Audio log terminated*

I only remember what happened there vaguely. It was . . . well, a bunch of necromorphs, I think. Not entirely sure. I just got attacked and blacked out. All I know is when I woke up, there were two necromorphs charging me. Good thing I've got fast reflexes. Dismembered 'em both, but I was still very dizzy. I crawled to the reactor and wondered how on earth the necromorphs got past the perimeter. Maybe they jumped down from the adjacent building. I don't know. Maybe never will.

Anyway, I looked at the scan Terrance had sent to me and saw where things needed to be fixed. I crawled to the first location and ripped off the paneling after melting the screws with my plasma saw.

A bone blade slammed into the metal roof right next to my head. Luckily it got stuck for a moment; I switched the configuration of the plasma saw to high-intensity cutting, powered it on, and swiped upward at the necromorph's arm, cutting it off and then the next one. I looked around. All I saw were three dead necromorphs and a dark and empty roof. It was clear, for now.

I went back to work and repaired the damage as best I could, not doing a crappy patch-up that would need to be fixed later. If I was going to die on this roof, I'd at least ensure that the reactor would work for everyone down below.

A few minutes later, I was done. Three more damage points, then I had to activate the thing. I managed to stand unsteadily and walked slowly to the next point. My head was swimming; everything was fuzzy. I heard a necromorph shriek behind me. Cursing, I raised my plasma cutter and blasted it apart; then another one, and finally one more. Cursing again, I reloaded and went to the next broken bit. This one was worse, a gouge in the metal. It would need replacement parts. I configured my saw and cutter to the appropriate settings to cut through and carve metal, and then got to work on a chunk of useless metal attached to the roof. After making the replacement parts as best I could, I quickly got to work and fixed it. Another necromorph appeared; I killed it quickly. Staggering to the next bit, I saw that it was a dead computer – the reactor's controller. I quickly opened it, forcing entry and knowing I'd have to weld it shut, complicating future access. I saw that there was some damage to some wires and chips. I cursed, but then rewired it minimalist-style and removed the damaged chips which were, fortunately, relatively unnecessary. Unfortunately, the restraint systems weren't salvageable, so I put a small device that would hopefully notice if the reactor overheated or some other catastrophic event occurred and activate a klaxon device that I wired to its frequency, which I would place inside the building.

More screams. Damn.

I hurried over to the starting mechanism and ran a quick diagnostic scan to see what exactly was wrong with it, it being the last flashing red point on the 3d image of the thing. It turned out that it was dead and a few wires were frayed. No problem. I looked around for a starter chip.

Nothing.

I cursed. A regular occurrence in this little adventure. I did yet another local pulse scan, and found nothing. No starter chips anywhere.

I turned around, finally. There were at least twenty necromorphs assembled at the opposite end of the roof. I was thinking, _what the hell is the perimeter for if this many god damn necromorphs can get through it?_ when suddenly an idea occurred to me. If I overloaded my RIG, the power from it would be enough to start the reactor. Of course, that would mean all of the RIG's strength augmentation and everything else would be down, meaning I'd barely be able to move, meaning I'd be defenseless, but the chances of my survival were unlikely and I figured I might as well complete my mission if I were to die rather than cower like a, well, coward. _A soldier always completes his mission._

So I ignored the charging necromorphs and turned to the starter chip slot. My head was clearer now, so I used it. I ripped open the panel on my left forearm and tore out the grounding wires. I pulled free some wires and jabbed them into the starter chip slot. Pushing them in as far as I could go, I knew I'd need to time this perfectly on try one, or all would be over. So I reached into the open panel on my arm and crossed two wires. A brilliant flash occurred. Sparks flew. I flew, at least ten feet backward. The necromorphs were almost upon me. I, still on my stomach, launched myself forward as far as I could, barely able to reach the controls. A necromorph grabbed my leg and pulled back, hard. Knowing I had one chance to complete manually the startup procedure, I kicked backward ferociously as hard as I could until the grip slackened. I then hurled myself forward again and ripped open the starter's panel, revealing wires and chips and everything. I crossed two wires; uncrossed others; flipped switches; ran diagnostics; green light! The reactor began to glow cheerily blue and hum healthily. A smile played across my face as I slumped downward and rolled on my back to see, finally, the necromorph swarm converge over me.

Suddenly, my vision went. All I saw was gold and white, just pure color, mixing, intermingling, feeling each other out. Suddenly, they recoiled, revealing blackness where they were not. I screamed, but I had no mouth and nothing happened. Out of the pure color, two figures emerged, unclear and vague – a gold one from the gold color, and a white one from the white color. For all their indistinctness, their eyes were glowing brightly and somehow clearly visible. They had no irises, no retinas. Just white and gold, that was it. The Gold One spoke then. When it did, its mouth glowed the same way as its eyes and its voice was harsh, indistinct, raspy, and seemed to be coming from everywhere, nowhere, and far away all at the same time.

"_I will not sit by and let you do this. They must die. The children, they must grow in numbers, so that we may be -_"

"_Shush. One is with us._" It was the White One this time. Hist voice was the same, except instead of being harsh and raspy, it was deep and smooth and somehow soothing. The Gold One's head snapped to me, its eyes growing. I seemed to fall into its eyes. Its eyes! I still remember them as clear as day . . . so beautiful.

"_Why have you brought this one here?_" the Gold One asked, continuing to hold me in his beautiful glare.

"_He has been touched by you. You remain in his brain, his mind is yours. He is yours. He even bears you as we speak! Remember the game. I have my pawn, now you must have yours. He is surrounded by my children, but I can send them away. He is the only one you can have_."

"_No. I want the other one. The second one touched by me_."

"_I am sorry, but that one will resist you. This one is weaker. He will give in. His soul already has a hole. You know this. A deceased family member. Use him to your advantage. Remember. You need a pawn_."

"_Very well. A pawn I shall have. We will not meet again like this. I look forward to defeating you_."

"_As I do you_."

When I awoke, I was chained to the reactor, which was humming as beautifully as ever. I hugged into its warmth and opened my eyes.

_Wait, chained? How? Where did they get the chains? And who chained me –_

Then I looked up. I saw . . . John? _John?_

"John!" I screamed. It was my brother, but . . . different. He was older. Like he would have been if he hadn't . . . hadn't what? No, but that didn't make any sense . . .

"Sup, bud?" John said, as casual as ever. He was fighting off all twenty necromorphs, using my plasma cutter and saw. His shots were deadly accurate, each one hitting their mark perfectly. Like my shots . . . but John never knew how to shoot a gun . . . he never even shot one before he . . . what? Before he what? No . . . nothing.

"How . . . how did you get here? How did you know?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Ha, long story." John had cut the things down to one. He tossed the plasma cutter and saw to the side and grabbed the necromorph's . . . arms, we'll say. The things sticking from their collarbones, with the bone blades at the end. Anyway, he grabbed them, and wrenched the necromorph to the ground. The necromorph screamed in anger and began to writhe furiously, trying to escape, but John would not let go. With a loud grunt, John yanked the necromorph to the ground, placed his boot firmly on its head, and pulled. He didn't stop pulling until both of the appendages had ripped off. John used kinesis on them both and, after aiming briefly, used the modules' eject function to launch the spikes into the now dead necromorph's back and through to the roof, pinning it there.

"Hey, thanks," I said to John. "I really appreciate it. What's your story? How'd you get here? Last time I saw you was . . . was in the gunship . . . after -"

My vision went gold again and now-familiar symbols flared all around me. Then everything went black. When I awoke, I was on the roof, next to the pleasantly humming reactor. My plasma saw and cutter were lying on the roof next to me, and I was surrounded by dead necromorphs everywhere. I looked around the reactor for the chains that had bound me, and for any signs of John, but there were none.

_Wait, John? What the – he's dead, long dead! How on earth could I have possibly seen him? I don't . . . I don't understand._

My head spinning again, I walked to the engineering hatch beneath my feet on the roof and activated it, hopping down into it and onto the ladder. I backtracked until I reached the other hatch. The one not in the blueprints. I debated briefly on opening it, but after seeing the ineffectiveness of the perimeter watch, I decided against it and moved on until I reached the hatch that opened into the main building itself.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. _My RIG is back to full power! How the hell . . . _But then I opened the hatch and fell into the building, my helmet receding back into my RIG, to be greeted by a cheerful Titan and Terrance.

"Nice work, Gunner! I can't believe you made it out of that!" said Titan.

"Out of what?" I replied. "The first ten individual necromorphs, or the last group of twenty?"

"Both – either! They . . . well, the perimeter watch went missing. I'm not sure what the hell happened out there, but I've doubled the watch and moved some of the equipment outside. There's only eight of us in here, including you. Ten outside. Other five unaccounted for. But that's not important! Or . . . well, it is, but – what's really important is that you got the reactor up! What happened out there?"

"I don't know. Truth is, I think that somehow the Marker's influence is still in me. I saw . . . visions, I guess. And John again."

"John? I thought the doctors cleared you back on Rhea Station! And then again later!" Terrance said loudly.

"Yeah, I know, they did. But something must be bringing it back. I don't know. I'm just not sure."

"Well, hopefully, shit doesn't happen again. We'll start tomorrow to set up the surveillance perimeter. That way our perimeter watch won't be surprised again," said Titan.

"Great. Let's sleep now. We want to be strong for tomorrow," said Terrance.

"Agreed," I replied.

* * *

**So, guys, let me know what you think. I haven't gotten any reviews yet, so I'm going to cool off the keyboard until I do to make sure people are actually reading this (meaning no more chapters until I get a review. How mature, eh? XD)**

**Next chapter will be back to Giovanni Brown's perspective. See you all later!  
**

**Read, Share, _REVIEW_, Repeat!  
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	6. Chapter 4 - Giovanni Brown

__**Wow, Giovanni chapters are turning out to be pretty darn short. Guess it's because we're not in the meat of his story yet . . . and I'm getting lazy. :) Not really. I never get _lazy_, per se, just . . . well, I've been really sick for a while. Guess this whole big thing's going around my school, shat's getting real. Out all week this week and all that. It's like an extra vacation . . . after Christmas vacation . . . of nine days . . . except I'm more sick than Snooki the morning after a night out.  
**

**Well, I don't think _any_thing can get _that_ sick, but . . . anywho. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

_Three hours,_ thought Giovanni despairingly. _Three hours, I've been trudging through this godforsaken desert . . . _But then he though of what he had just said and laughed, just as he sank to his feet in exhaustion and dehydration. _Godforsaken . . . yeah, right. He was just trying to ensure that only those devoted to Him could get to His Marker._ And I am devoted.

Just then he heard a noise above him. He looked up at the oddly-shimmering sky and saw – what? – no, it couldn't be – but yes, it was – the White Marker . . . with wings, flapping happily through the air, glowing beautifully as it drifted into space toward the USG _Colorado_. Something wasn't quite right there . . . but no, it seemed perfectly legitimate to him. At least as legitimate as Fred was.

Hang on, what was that? How was Fred any less legitimate than this flying Marker? Or any more? It was all real, of course.

But . . . there's just something _off_, something _not quite right_ about both Fred _and_ the Marker. Something that, if he could only put his tongue on it, might solve his problems . . .

No, but of course, it was all real. Nothing to doubt in this universe! God just must have decided that Giovanni's workers were too incompetent to remove the Marker without damaging it. _And even with the strict limitations I imposed upon them regarding mining tools . . . no plasma allowed, no less. I must have damn incompetent workers. _At that moment, Giovanni looked back to the surface of Jericho II and saw, on the distant horizon, a smudge of what looked to be . . . buildings.

_Very good, very good . . . that must be the main colony._ Giovanni had figured out earlier that he had crash-landed on one of the more distant mining outposts on Jericho II, one tasked with trying to see what was below the surface of the planet; whether or not it had self-sustaining properties, or if it would be dependent upon inter-stellar trade. Giovanni hadn't had any reports from any of the outposts. _Incompetence is everywhere,_ thought Giovanni with a small sigh. No doubt they had wasted all the equipment and funds he had given them on booze and women.

Giovanni had been struggling to rise again to his feet since he sank to them, but to no avail. He simply hadn't the strength necessary to do so. His throat was parched, his stomach growled, and his limbs were leaden. He could not go on, but he knew he had to – or die.

Finally, his vision popped black and white in the corners of his eyes, and his head spun in ridiculous margins. His vision began to darken, and he fell face-first into the sand.

When he finally awoke, he did so to the strange sensation of being dragged. He looked down and saw the sand go by him, and then looked again, doing a double-take; he was strapped to a hastily-made wooden sled, and being dragged on it across the desert! He craned his neck to see who was dragging him, and did yet another double-take.

"Fred?" Giovanni asked skeptically. "How the hell did you find me?"

"A true brother always knows. By the way, bud, you can't keep almost dying. I hate having to rescue you all the time. Makes me divert from the other stuff I'm supposed to be doing now," replied Fred.

This this normally wouldn't strike Giovanni as something a brother would say, but his brain was so fuzzy now he didn't notice, instead merely nodding and apologizing. Suddenly, the pops on the corner of his vision appeared again, but this time they were the weird glowing white symbols instead of the black and white dots. Giovanni closed his eyes and breathed deeply until they went away.

"So, G, what happened?" Fred asked, seeming to want to pass the time while he dragged his brother across the desert.

"Well . . . I got dehydrated. And didn't have enough food. I still am thirsty and hungry. Or, well . . . no, I'm not. How odd," replied Giovanni.

Fred just winked slyly at him. "We should be at the main colony within a few hours. I want you to sleep, okay, G? It'll make it easier for me to do this. Just . . . _sleep_."

With that last word, the symbols appeared again, except this time they weren't popping or in the edges of his eyes; they dominated his vision, swirling around, crowding him, growing until all he could see was just pure white – and then black.

He awoke a few times over the next few hours, each time seeing the sky, the three ships in orbit, the sand beneath him, and the pleasant feeling of him being pulled across it, before each time Fred whispered gently to him, "_sleep_," and he did, until the last time he awoke it was all the same except he was surrounded by buildings as well. This time he stayed awake, as Frank did not command him back to unconsciousness.

"We're in the main colony, aren't we?" asked Giovanni.

"Yes," Fred replied.

"Where are the necromorphs?"

"Scared."

And then Giovanni blacked out again. When he woke again, he was strapped to yet another medical table, completely alone, in a locked medical room. As he regained consciousness, the straps receded back into the table and Giovanni swung his legs off it and sat up. His head complained loudly for a moment, and he put his hands around his skull as if trying to strangle the pain, but then it passed and he stood. He looked around the room and found, on a nightstand next to the table, his plasma saw.

_Thanks, Fred_, he thought wryly as he picked it up and activated it to be sure it still worked. It did.

He moved around the room and found a semi-hidden heap of dried rehydratable food containers and jugs of water. On it was a single sheet of paper with writing on it clearly in Frank's hand. It read:

_Dear G,_

_Hey, it's Frank. Sorry to leave you abandoned again, but I really can't spare much time for you right now, honest. It's really important._

_Anyway, this food and water should be enough to keep you alive for a few days. Stay in the medical bay until it runs out – I accidentally stirred up the necromorphs considerably when I left, and there's no way in hell you're getting out of there alive with how it's like out there._

_The med bay is well-barricaded. There are no doors that will lead in anymore, and the only way out is through _Exit 4B_ as marked on the emergency exit map by the door in your room._

_So, you can go anywhere you like in the med-bay. It's totally safe. Stay in there until your food and water run out. There's a plasma cutter in the basement, but it's all dark down there; no power to the cellars. I rerouted the generator so its limited capabilities will be directed only toward your comfort – like the spa rooms and the entertainment centers and all that. There's even a luxury suite in the place. For a colony-surface med-bay, it's totally decked out. There's a flashlight in the lounge anyway, so you should be good. It's low on battery, though. Sorry. Best I could do._

_Hope you don't die a horribly painful death while I'm away (I really do need you, G)!_

_-Fredrick Brown_

Obviously the med-bay was all decked-out – he'd designed himself, for himself! It would be where he would stay if he ever went down to the surface – that way, he'd never be more than a hundred meters away from a highly trained professional doctor at any time in the building.

Of course, that wasn't the case anymore, but Giovanni would take what he could get from the bay. At least Fred had cleaned out the necromorphs from the place. He was glad to have a place of respite after all of his ordeals for the past few days – traitors on-board blowing the ship up, – _That was how that happened, right?_ – crash-landing on the surface of the planet, getting his arm torn to shreds, becoming dehydrated in the desert . . . ending up here seemed to be God's way of saying, "You've been through a lot recently, here's my gift to my most dedicated follower."

He couldn't wait to relax.

* * *

**Yes, that was it, why do you ask? You got somethin' to say, you come say it, bud! To my f*ckin' faaaaaace!**

**Anyway. Read, Share, Review, Repeat! 'Till next time! Chill.  
**


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